


Fight

by Twisted_Mind



Series: 12 Days of Christmas [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Bastard Snape, Bondage, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, POV First Person, Snape Lives, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 09:49:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1644407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind/pseuds/Twisted_Mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the 3rd day of Christmas I give you . . . Severus and Harry fighting--but they both win. Promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GhostxWriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostxWriter/gifts).



> Originally posted Dec 16th 2012 at HP Fandom as a Christmas gift. Edited upon reposting here. 
> 
> I don't own. No, really. No--you can't listen to what the boys say. They only wish I owned them.

He struggles.  
  
But then, he always does.  
  
I had to lull him into a sense of calm before I could slip the blindfold on. As soon as I did, he started fighting. He lashes out with fists and furious, cutting words.  
  
I have long since become immune to such tactics. He knows this. He does it anyway.  
  
One by one, I catch his flailing limbs, wrestling until each is securely bound by velvet-covered rope. His words and blows become more vicious as he loses his ability to fight. He pulls against the bonds, testing if they will yield.  
  
I wait.  
  


***

  
  
Eventually his thrashing stops; his body is still, but not relaxed. Vitriol continues to spill from his lips, words his last defence against me.  
  
I pay his venom no mind. I never have. He goes on at me anyway.  
  
I say nothing, brushing my fingertips against the skin of his thigh. He pauses, and then continues to berate me. I continue to stroke my hands over his warm skin until both the words and the tension have run out of him.  
  
Only then do I kiss him, pulling back before he can bite me.  
  
Even our kisses are a fight.  
  


***

  
  
After, when we are both sticky and sated, and he lies warm and pliant in my arms, do I voice the question that has plagued me from the start.  
  
“Why do you always fight so hard?” I ask, whispering. “You know you don’t need to.”  
  
“If it is such a struggle, why do you bother with me? Why not leave?” His voice is brittle; he’s still too raw, too open to hide from me—though he wants to.  
  
I press a kiss to his inky black hair. “Because, Severus… it’s not worth half as much when you don’t fight me.”  
  



End file.
